Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Fiachra sat, comfortably ensconced in a wingback chair to the right of the fireplace. At his feet, a rather lovely slave leaned against his legs, running her long slender fingers softly along the inside of his leg up to his thigh. Dark hair, swept up severely from a fine brow and narrow face, large lustrous strands falling in artful disarray across one slender shoulder. Almond shaped eyes, tip tilted, lent an exotic air to the fine boned features, the only anomaly a pouting mobile mouth. A thick leather collar encircled the slender neck; narrow leather straps attached with silver rings swept down and cupped the full, plump breasts, their dark nipples stiff. A scrap of material cupped the underside of the heavy breasts, supporting their weight and offering them as if on a platter. A gauzy underskirt barely masked the voluptuous figure of the slave, the dark triangle at the apex of her thighs silkily obvious through its folds.

Fiachra kept up a desultory conversation with the rather striking domme who sat in an identical chair to the left of the fire. Her tall spare figure was severely garbed in a long leather skirt, split to the thigh and her long lovely legs, encased to the thigh in supple leather boots with 4-inch stilettos rested on the lap of her sub, a stalwart lad with blond curls who rested a handsome head against his mistress's warm thigh. Absently, the domme would rub her foot against the bulge of the boy's leather clad groin and Fiachra grinned inwardly as the boy's face would redden, then pale as his prick would stiffen and then squeezed in a steel cock ring, subside.

Glancing about the room casually, Fiachra masked his inward amusement at the spectacle of his fellow devotees and their attendants. Settling himself more comfortably in the chair, an exact replica of one described in many of the novels about 22B Baker Street, he found it in himself to be grateful his sense of irony hadn't entirely deserted him.

As much as he loved the lifestyle he had adopted many years before, his strong sense of practicality and reality often intruded on the somewhat fanciful world he inhabited. While many adopted the trappings with ease, immersing themselves in fantasy, Fiachra's clear gaze was unable to entirely sublimate the absurdity of some of the outward manifestations.

The room was quite crowded as this, the second Saturday of each month always provided good entertainment as Damian usually introduced new submissives to the group as part of their training. Glancing about the room, Fiachra noted that the numbers of doms and dommes were fairly evenly matched, with the edge perhaps in favour of the females. Male submissives and slaves, for some reason, were far more numerous than a true heterosexual submissive female and many doms searched for years before finding a compatible sub he wished to keep.

Outwardly, Fiachra was calm, his mobile face serene, the green eyes relaxed. Inside, he felt remarkably nervous, his stomach churning. He knew Bree was being introduced tonight and despite having seen her used by several others at this point, this would be the first truly public display of his possession and he was equal parts proud and apprehensive. That secret part of him that few knew existed caused him great anguish as he contemplated seeing his beloved Bree fucked by other cocks. He had found out much about himself over the past several weeks, and had had to continually reassess his own limits and search deep within himself to ascertain what his true desires demanded. He was, at this point, having seen his darling flogged, spanked, used and abused, conversant with his real desires and that was that once her training was complete, he would take Bree away. He realized, being painfully honest with himself, that he harboured real regrets over the course he had chosen – that had he know how difficult it would be to see her humiliated he might have chosen differently. Yet, an introspective man, painfully honest with himself, he recognized too that as much as it bothered him to see Bree abused, that part of him that made him what he was relished it and found it immensely arousing.

The course was set and knowing that so many others were going to see his Bree used definitely provided a fillip of excitement that he had been missing in his life. Putting his hand down, he tangled it in the dark curls of the slave, pulling slightly so that she sighed and hung her head. Leaning over, he cupped a heavy breast, contemplating its swelling richness with a rather absent air, then fingering the hard nipples felt his prick stir. Pressing the breast into his hand, the slave ran her hand up his thigh to cup the growing bulge. Fiachra pinched the stiff nipple between his fingers, hard, then suddenly, with no warning, smacked it and admired the way the plump expanse jiggled, the mark of his hand livid against its pale flesh. Sighing, the slave merely leaned into his punishing fingers, her breath coming faster.

A stir at the front of the room distracted him, and dropping the plump breast, Fiachra looked up. The ornate doors opened and the trainees entered, their keepers leading them by silver leads attached to the leather collars encircling their necks.

Ignoring the others, Fiachra's eyes fastened avidly on his darling. She looked, he thought relieved, quite marvellous. Tall and slender, her magnificent hair was pulled up in a complicated riot of curls, baring the long neck which looked obscenely vulnerable in its thick leather collar. Despite all that she had undergone in the past two weeks, Bree stood tall and proud, resigned but unbroken, her shoulders squared and proud, the small plump breasts tip tilted, their long pink nipples stiff, thrown into relief by the fact that her arms were cuffed behind her. The long slender torso and narrow hips were naked except for a simple leather harness that encircled but bared those pretty breasts and clasped the narrow hips, straps running down to circle each thigh but leaving the smooth shaved pudendum open. Her marvellous long shapely legs with their taut thighs and swelling calves were one of Bree's best feature and showed to advantage in gartered pale stockings and knee length stiletto boots. The contrast of the boots and stockings against her nakedness was provocative and shocking and immensely arousing. Judging from the reactions, Fiachra knew he wasn't the only one who found it captivating.

Bree was most assuredly the most captivating trainee among the three that entered and for that Fiachra was thankful.

As he watched, Lydia tugged at the lead, thus turning Bree so that her back faced him. He felt his prick jerk and swell as he saw the marks of her flogging the night before clear upon the pale, delicate skin of her back. Long welts criss crossed the expanse of flesh in an expert pattern and grudgingly Fiachra admitted to himself that Damian's hand with the whip was second to none. Not once did he see where the sting of the crop had struck twice.

The smooth, taut cheeks of Bree's bottom were crimson and narrowing his gaze, Fiachra could see that there were even one or two drops of blood, a thin rivulet which trickled down the keep furrow between. He felt an avaricious desire to go to her and run his finger along that hot red ass, to put his finger to the thin trickle of blood and then sip its sweet nectar.

He became aware that the slave at his feet was rubbing his stiffening prick through the cloth of his pants. Pushing slightly into the expert fingers, he pulled back, then charged her to desist. Standing, he indicated the slave was to follow him and he began to make his way across the room.

****

As Bree came into the room, she felt her heart beating frantically and wondered if whoever was there could see its throbbing beneath her chest . She prayed that outwardly her agitation was not obvious; she would be mortified if others saw her fear. Her eyes blindfolded, she stumbled slightly as Lydia guided her through the crowd, an experienced hand using the leash which was clipped to Bree's collar to guide her.

Beneath the blindfold, Bree’s eyes moved frantically. She could hear voices and felt around her the crush of people, scents and voices mingling and confusing. Her other senses had become hyper aware when her vision was taken and she was astonished at how much she could surmise without her eyes. Without her vision, she couldn't know for certain but she felt, strongly, the room was crowded. She could feel the warmth from many bodies, while her hearing was acute and could make out the murmur of many voices over the low music.

The pale skin of her arms flinched as fingers trailed along her shoulder blade. Bree steeled herself as the fingers came down and cupped her breast, squeezing and feeling the weight of that sweet morsel of flesh. She stood quietly as she had been told as yet another pair of hands seized the other breast, less gently than the one that now clasped and cupped her left breast. The new hands squeezed hard, making her stifle a groan as they cruelly twisted the small breast, seizing then pinching the nipple.

Then shockingly, she felt a hand probing between her legs, pushing a finger between the smooth, slippery lips and without any preliminaries, pushing up her tight passage. Behind she felt the warmth of another body and then the unmistakable feel of a moist prick rubbing between the taut cheeks of her ass.

Her breath quickened and she consciously worked at slowing her panting, forcing herself to try to relax as the stiff prick rubbed a dribbling head up and down the furrow of her buttocks. The other hand pushed several fingers up her cunt, rubbing the sides and pushing open the swollen folds almost painfully.

"Has she been fisted?" a male voice asked her, the owner of the fingers now rubbing the swollen folds of her cunt.

"No, sir," Lydia answered respectfully.

"Sir John said that was to be done in public for the first time. This one has a problem with public display."

Bree stifled a scream as the hand twisting her breast suddenly smacked it. She felt the soft flesh quivering and a hot flush spread over her body.

Behind her she felt the owner of the stiff prick probing at the tight furled rose of her asshole. Unable to prevent herself, she clenched her buttocks.

"I thought you said she had anal training?" a voice asked.

"She has - but she still has to get used to others using her at will."

Bree whimpered under her breath, her heart pounding as she heard her lover's voice. She yearned to throw herself into his arms, to have him caress her and hold her and tell her she was safe. But here she stood, a willing sacrificial lamb, an innocent to slaughter because to do less or different would mean that she would lose him. Despite what she had undergone in the past several days, Bree would deal with that and more. What she could not deal with was a life without D in it, a life devoid then of hope and passion, empty of meaning or desire.

She sensed him beside her, the fine pale hair of her forearms rising as she sensed his beloved presence. She realized then that no matter what they did, no matter how they restrained her, treated her, she would tolerate all of it and more as long as he continued to desire her and want her and love her.

She felt his hands, so familiar, so beloved on her face, caressing the tight line of her jaw, running a finger gently along her nose and probing the small mouth. Gratefully, she licked the proffered finger, sucking it gently between her lips.

He laughed, gently then removing his hand, she felt him move behind her.

He pushed slightly in the small of her back. Obediently, she leaned forward slightly, feeling her buttocks flare out. Trembling, she felt him part the taut cheeks, his finger probing at the tight anus. Between her legs, a gush of fluid trickled from the swollen folds to snake a glistening trail down her thigh.

Fiachra pushed a finger into the deep red folds, wetting his finger. Then back to the buttocks, pushing gently, insistently against the furled rose. Sighing, she surrendered, relaxing her clenched muscles and the probing finger sank to the first knuckle in the deep hole.

Bree felt Fiachra pull it out, then murmuring and she sensed him move away. Suddenly, harshly, the spongy head of a prick slipped the tip into her tight hole. Gasping, she involuntarily began to clench, then cried out as a hand smacked down on her cheek.

Hard hands grasped her hips and pulled them harshly back against a heavy groin, and she felt the unmistakable sponginess of a fat belly. Then, shockingly, a heavy prick pushed against her unprepared ass, pushing aside tight folds, causing tiny nicks which trailed minute trails of blood.

Breathing heavily, the man behind her pushed his stiff moist prick firmly, determined to sheath it in her tight fundament. His fingers dug into her narrow hips as he brutally thrust up into her, then began to push in and out, ignoring her moans, intent on fucking the tight ass as hard and as much as he chose. Precum, leaking from the tip of the heavy, invading prick thankfully began to provide a little lubrication.

Trembling, Bree forced herself to stand as quietly as possible, exerting a tremendous sense of control; wanting to pull away, get away from the cock that was now violating her but wanting more to make Fiachra proud of her – wanting him to know that no matter how she felt, she was doing this as he wanted her to – that she would take this rape and deal with it and not cry out or complain.

Fiachra stood to one side, his face expressionless, and watched his beloved get roughly probed by a thick prick. Her small breasts jiggled and jumped as the heavy, florid faced dom behind her thrust his prick harshly in and out, relishing the feel of the tight passageway, liking the sensation of scraping that sent exquisite tremors into his throbbing prick. Bree's glorious red hair was pulled up and away from her slender neck which looked obscenely vulnerable circled as it was by the tooled leather collar. Snaking out from beneath the blindfold, Fiachra saw glistening tracks as Bree wept silently. His heart swelled as he saw her courage, proud of her and thankful she was so committed.

An introspective man, Fiachra probed inwardly, trying to identify the emotions which threatened to break his usual stoicism. He realized ruefully that what he felt was a combination of pride, lust and possessiveness. He enjoyed watching his possession being used – that seeing her fucked roughly and thoroughly didn't bother him as much as he would like, but made his own prick throb.

Bree gave a little moan as she felt fingers at her breast again. Her bottom was flaming, the entrance burning and sore and yet the prick still kept thrusting. A hand grabbed her breast roughly and cupping it firmly began to smack it rhytmically, timing the slaps to the thrusting of the prick into her violated hole. Despite herself, Bree began to grow wet, her clit to swell.

Her world was black, made up of sensation and sound, the murmuring of voices in the room, the slapping of her ass against a hairy groin, the sweet crack of a hand against her soft breast and the swelling which began to gather, like a tide, deep within.

"Look at those nipples!" said the voice beside her, no doubt the owner of the slapping hand.

Fiachra watched as his friend, Robert, continued slapping the soft breast. He admired the finger marks which showed lividly against the pale flesh, the nipples crimson and extended. Robert moved to the front and began to smack both breasts, relishing the jiggle and the pull but loving most of all the reddening flesh, the livid bruises which were already beginning to form.

Bree's delicate, pale Irish skin was ideal for this. Fiachra had requested that no permanent marks be inflicted as he had a fondness for the smoothness of her lightly freckled white flesh but had agreed that it was quite provocative and enjoyable to see how well her body displayed the mark of the whip and the hand.

Behind, the dom's breathing quickened, his protruding belly shaking as he shoved his thick prick in and out of the impossibly narrow passage. Still not properly lubricated, the thick stem scraped against the sensitive sides of her anus, causing minute nicks and tiny pinpricks of blood.

Fiachra looked and could see the big prick swelling even more, the heavy balls taut and drawn up into the hairy groin. He couldn't help but admit that the sight of the heavy stem thrusting into and out of that slender ass was enticing.

The dom's hand came down hard on the flexed buttock, smacking it painfully and despite herself, Bree cried out. Grinning at the faces which were avidly watching their coupling, he smacked her already flushed ass again, this time with a harshness that immediately raised swollen welts. Despite herself, Bree cried out.

Hearing her cry of pain, the man groaned and pulling the slender hips tight against him, thrust his prick as far up as he could manage. Closing his eyes, he leaned forward as much as he could over his own swollen belly and grunted as his prick swelled even more then began to spasm, spurting into the tight passageway.

Bree felt hot jets of cum scalding her sore bottom. Painfully, but determined, she pushed her violated buttocks back against the man's groin, ensuring that all the sperm was emptied into her body. Breathing heavily, spasmodically, the dom thrust once, then twice, bringing a heavy hand down on her buttocks each time while Robert increased the intensity of his slaps against her small breasts. Shouting, the dom emptied his prick.

For a moment, panting heavily, the rapist leaned against the slender girl, his belly shaking as he tried to catch his breath. Then grinning as a few jokesters clapped, he pulled his shrinking prick from the tight anus, still dribbling sticky thick sperm which trailed a glistening trail against the crimson of her abused ass.

Without being asked, Lydia released Bree's lead, kneeling in front of the man, she took the reeking prick in her mouth where she carefully and thoroughly licked it clean, running an experienced tongue along its softening length and paying particular attention to the spongy tip. Absently, the dom scratched his belly while Lydia attended to him, and turning to his friend said, "She's a good tight fuck – want to try her?"

Grinning, his friend went over to where Bree stood, legs trembling, ass crimson. Pushing her forward slightly, he pried apart the tight crimson buttocks and then poked a finger in the slightly gaping hole which dribbled sperm over his questing finger.

"I'm not fucking her up there until she's washed," he said laughing.

"I'm not a fan of sloppy seconds."

"But ...."

Grabbing Bree' lead he jerked her around, almost causing her to fall off her pointed heels.

Tugging the lead harshly, he pulled her to her knees.

Bree heard a zipper and obediently opened her mouth. A moment later, a long slender prick pushed into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat and causing her to gag. Breathing through her nose, she regained her equilibrium and closing her lips around the stem began to suckle.

Fiachra stood to one side and felt as if his prick was going to explode. He watched as Bree obediently sucked the prick which was now thrusting in and out of her sweet mouth. Saliva wetted its pale length while from his vantage point, Fiachra could see the long, wrinkled ball sac banging against her chin.

The owner of that prick tangled his hands in the red curls, grasping her ears and pulling her tight in and out against his groin. He particularly liked shoving the long prick straight down the back of her throat.

His breath quickened. The girl was good, he conceded, not once pulling away but accepting what he chose to mete out. Looking down he found it immensely provocative to watch the white stem of his prick disappear to his groin, in the small mouth, her red curls dishevelled, the eyes blind behind the black blindfold.

Watching his friend fuck that tight ass had already brought him to a fever pitch of arousal. Grunting under his breath, he watched avidly as he fucked that sweet mouth, feeling his sperm boiling in his balls, which tightened now and pulled up into his groin. Then sighing, he shoved his prick in as deep as he could, feeling the red tip tickle the back of her throat and ensuring that its whole length was buried in that hot mouth, felt a delirious pleasure as his prick began to pulsate, sending long streams of cum straight down the back of her throat.

Holding her head tight against his groin, he emptied his prick.

Fiachra watched the long slender column of Bree's throat contract and expand as she frantically tired to swallow the hot sperm which was now being pumped down her throat. Coughing slightly, breathing hard through her nose, she gulped, her hands spasming as locked behind her, they sought to grasp the hips which even now pumped its load in her mouth.

Although tightly plugged by the prick, from the corners of Bree's small mouth a thin stream of pale sperm suddenly spurted, one trailing a glistening rivulet down her chin, the other actually striking the man's groin.

Laughing, the man pulled his still jerking prick from the warm prison of the sub's mouth, the crimson tip dribbling. A young slave next to him dropped to her knees and cleaned him thoroughly with her own sweet mouth, ensuring to lick the blob of sperm which stained his hip.

"Look at that." he said, indicating the spot. "She'll have to be punished for that."

Reaching, he went to grasp the end of the lead still held in Lydia's hand.

Fiachra stopped him.

"Just a minute – you can have her in a second."

Fiachra walked to where Bree still knelt, tears tracking a silver trail down the pale cheeks. Reaching behind, he undid the fastenings holding the blindfold tight.

Bree blinked, her eyes blind in the sudden light, their deep limped depths awash in tears, giving them an otherworldly radiance that caused some of the spectators to gasp with admiration. As if by instinct, still somewhat blinded she turned her gaze to Fiachra

Green eyes met green eyes in a moment that for that second shut out the room around them.

Fiachra's, grass green and sharp captured and tangled with the paler green gaze of his love, entangling, enchanting and enthralling all over again her bruised heart.

In his gaze he tried to convey his pride, his happiness with her submission and obedience, his absolute delight in her. She, heart beating wildly as she met her beloved's gaze, poured her soul out in a soft radiant acceptance of her fate which she handed to him, freely, joyfully and without limitation.

Smiling, Fiachra leaned closer and brushed his lips gossamer soft over the sperm daubed lips of his love.

Without saying a word, the two understood each other. Leaning close, Fiachra whispered in the sweet ear, murmurings of love, of pride, of happiness and told her quietly, he would be with her later.

Meeting his eyes once again, her heart slowing yet her soul soaring, Bree gave her gentle smile and felt in herself an acceptance which to this point had been grudging, almost forced. She realized that while she had allowed her body to be used, her mind to be manipulated, her soul had been kept sacrosanct and apart. With that wild green gaze, she gave that too to her love and bowing her head accepted her fate.

She felt a jerk at her neck, and struggling to retain her dignity, managed to gracefully find her feet. Obediently she followed the tug of the leash.

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

Selkie's hand shook as she poured the glass of wine, ruby drops splattering onto the burnished wood of the table. Giggling, she glanced at her girlfriend who rolled her eyes then handed her own glass to be filled.

Selkie knew that she really shouldn't be having this, what? third glass? fourth? She wasn't sure and she sure as hell didn't care. She knew D. would not be pleased – he had been quite clear that she should maintain decorum, keep sober and not party too much on her visit to her old home. D. knew what she was like when she had a few too many – throwing caution to the wind.

But life was good, the wine was fine, a piquant cabernet sauvignon, a smoky blackberry, overlaid with a fruity dry feel that tickled the palette and slid down her long throat very easily. After a long drive and a busy afternoon, sorting out her mum's business, she had been happy to see her old friend and to kick back metaphorically and put her feet up.

She had an even busier day coming up, meetings and filing and doing all the small repairs her mum was unable to keep up with since her dad died.

"Let's go out!"

Bev's voice interrupted her flow of thought.

"Up to the Manoir, then down to the Topaz!"

Selkie grinned. Sounded like a plan to her! Glancing at the clock on the wall, she saw the night was still young. She didn't have to check in with D. until midnight – he had sent her with "gifts" for her sister – a state of the art webcam and microphone – intended, she well knew to allow him full access to his pet should he feel so inclined. He had been very clear that she was to check in at 12, at which point he would decide what services he wished.

After calling a taxi, Selkie and Bev swung out the door, long legs flashing. The friends had planned to go out for dinner before they got distracted by good wine and catching up, so both were dressed for company. Bev's ebony hair swung loose around her fine boned face, her large brown eyes merry and happy, her figure as tall, lean and lovely as when they were girls. Always the more conservative of the two, her pink sweater nonetheless hugged her large firm breasts and emphasized the narrow waist and hips.

She had made some rather backhanded comments on greeting Selkie – indicating that this pet's manner of dressing might be a little inappropriate for a woman of 40+. A tight leather black skirt, slit to the thigh, garters and fuck me shoes, a lace camisole which emphasized the creaminess of the small firm breasts and of course, her collar which she never took off. A 2 inch finely tooled leather band, it encircled the pet's slender neck, a silver tag with a stylized D/s engraved on its surface.

Selkie always got a kick out of people's reactions on seeing her collar – for those in the know there was that narrowing of eyes, the sweep up her long, lovely body, assessing the submissive on her merits. To the vanilla population it was slightly outrageous and something atavistic would stir in even the most conservative of minds at the sight of ownership on a female throat – whether it was recognized as that or not. For the bolder ones who asked, puzzled, what the D/s stood for, Selkie would adopt a surprised air – "our initials of course!" she would answer merrily.

D.'s pet was expected to keep herself in top form and four demanding astanga yoga classes a week together with commuting by bike when weather permitted and nightly runs on the treadmill if it was inclement had honed and enriched her figure to an enviable shape. Tall, lean with narrow hips, small firm breasts with large, plump delectable nipples and gorgeous shapely legs, well muscled and strong, Selkie had the added advantage of a full rich head of burnished auburn curls and huge green eyes. Her pale Irish skin, creamy and lightly freckled was virtually unmarked by the vicissitudes of time, a lifetime aversion of the sun now paying off in tight, firm, smooth skin, the faint lines bracketing her large clear eyes and smiling mouth simply adding character to an already intriguing face.

Grinning at each other, pumped and feeling like kids, the two women jumped in the waiting taxi.

________________________________________

It was many hours later that a very tired, inebriated and flirtatious pet stumbled back into her mother's home. Giggling, she tried to be quiet, shushing herself loudly then laughing at her own meanderings. Looking at the clock, she was astonished and a little perturbed to see it was now almost 4 in the morning – long past when she should have checked in with D. Wine, clouding her mind, befuddling her movements, made her shrug – she would make it up to him tomorrow.

She and Bev had had a ball – drinking and dancing the night away, their feminine pride stroked and confirmed with the horde of men that couldn't resist two sexy, happy ladies.

With the room spinning, one rather drunk pet fell onto her bed, long legs akimbo, breasts tumbling out of the low neckline of the camisole.

"Oh GOD."

Sunlight, cruel and intrusive stabbed through Selkie's head as she opened sleep gummed eyes. Her stomach roiling, she felt a sick taste in the back of her throat and swallowing, fought to keep the contents of her stomach from erupting.

Turning away from the awful light, she buried her face in the pillow, running a hand gently along her flat belly, trying to soothe the demons which were attempting to claw their way out.

"Oh GOD – D!"

Snapping up, Selkie immediately regretted her movement. Narrowing her eyes, she tried to make out the time on the clock radio beside her bed.

Scrambling out of bed, ignoring a heaving stomach and aching head, she shot up to the computer, a hurried hello to her mum in passing.

Swearing under her breath, she quickly brought up her email:

"BAD pet:

I am most seriously displeased! I can guess where you were last night as I know you planned on seeing Bev.

As you are presently at your mother's to actually perform some tasks, I won't insist on your punishment until your return.

When you get back, I will expect you at the earliest opportunity, to strip naked, take the largest vibrator we have and press it firmly – that is FIRMLY against your clit. I will expect you to massage your clit, never removing the vibrator for a full 10 minutes.

I will, of course, expect you to videotape the entire punishment.

The most crucial part of this punishment is you are not – under any circumstances – to cum.

I will be in touch.

D."

Grimacing, Selkie tried to reply but soon found D. had blocked her.

The next few days seemed very long to a very contrite pet.

________________________

Selkie set up the video camera – D. had made sure that she was not only conversant but adept at manipulating the camera as he would often makes explicit requests of her – to be videoed and studied later by himself.

It was early afternoon, and sunlight streamed through the high window, lending a warm glow to the deep blue of the walls and sending tendrils of light to spark and tangle in the crimson fire of her hair. Their room was furnished primarily with soft, honey coloured pine including a four poster bed (most suitable for restraints), a large wardrobe and a mutual dresser.

Sighing, not looking forward to her punishment, Selkie girded herself metaphorically and with one motion, threw the light peignoir open, allowing its peach silk to slide off smooth shoulders.

Perfumed, shaved, pale Irish skin smoothed and creamed, she stood in front of the camera, turning slowly so her Master could inspect her.

Burnished curls tumbled over broad, pale shoulders, just touching the upper side of the small, plump breasts, their delicate pink nipples puffy and tip tilted. Beneath their sweet weight, her waist was taut, leading to narrow hips. Her long, very shapely, well toned legs and long narrow feet were privately considered by her to be her best features. The tooled collar around her neck was her only adornment with the exception of the small silver rings which glinted and winked between her legs.

The plump, smooth mound of her sex lay exposed and vulnerable, the tip of her cleft just visible, the rings obscenely obvious and incongruous. Turning, she swept her hair up off, allowing the long curving symphony of sweet lines and curves leading to the small, firm buttocks to be seen.

Kneeling on the bed, Selkie fumbled in the bedside drawer, pulling out a rather large vibrator, furled and bulging.

She had the camera set up so she could watch on the TV screen what she was actually filming – a remote clutched in hand gave her some control over the angles as well as the ability to zoom in or out.

Focusing the remote, she aimed the camera straight at her naked body. Leaning slightly against the tumbled pillows, Selkie pulled up her knees and planted her feet several feet apart.

On the screen she saw her long pink slit fully exposed – the lips tightly furled, and the glint of her piercings barely obvious. Her pussy was actually quite pretty – with long slender lips, smooth and hairless, pale against the deeper pink of her slit.

Staring into the screen as if it were D.'s eyes, she opened her legs further, spreading her cunt open for his enjoyment.

As she had been taught, she delicately grasped the small silver rings which pierced her outer labia on either side of her small, hidden clit. Carefully, she pulled open the lips, exposing the hooded mystery of her pleasure and the glistening inner labia and tight pink hole.

Then, releasing the rings and biting her lip, Selkie placed the vibrator between her nether lips, pushing them apart with its rubber head. Jumping, she felt the head touch her small, shy clit.

Looking up and grimacing, clenching her jaw in anticipation, Selkie turned on the vibrator.

"OUCH!"

Powerful and intrusive, the vibrating dildo sent shock waves through her entire vulva. The sensitive nerve endings in her clitoris protested, sending spears of pain radiating from its maligned tip up through her groin. Selkie's clit – and her nipples – were incredibly sensitive. Like a fine instrument, D. knew how to coax and tenderly awake her for to play his Selkie right meant that her unusual sensitivity, if handled right, would turn from one extreme to the other – and his pet when played correctly would wallow in extremes of sensation that few submissives could tolerate.

But now, unaroused, her clit protested. Turning the timer she had placed beside the bed to 10 minutes, Selkie set her jaw, keeping a determined hand on the vibrating instrument of torture.

Three minutes ... god it felt like 20 ....

She looked at the screen, trying to distract herself from the pain radiating now in concentric circles from her abused clit down to her firm ass. Restlessly, she squirmed, being careful to keep the vibrator directly on what was normally the apex of her pleasure.

Selkie's breath began to shorten and she began to pant without realizing it as she struggled to retain her composure and complete her punishment. Teeth clenched, tears trailing a glistening trail down her pale cheek, she tried to concentrate.

The pain was only increasing, her entire groin aching and sore but worst of all, her clit felt like it was on fire. Pinching and hot, the vibrating head of the dildo sent shock waves through her crotch, and she had to consciously force her hand to keep the instrument of torture pressed against it.

"Fuck!

Tears spurting, Selkie snatched the vibrator away. Looking at the timer she saw she was 2.5 minute short of completing her punishment.

Trembling, oblivious now to the camera whose winking eye drank in every movement, she spread her legs and looked down.

Her clit burned, a tiny angry bristling piece of abused flesh, stiff and tight, poking now between the lips of her cunt. Normally, pale and delicately pink, Selkie's clit when aroused would swell and turn a deep, rich crimson. But now, abused and angry, it was narrow and shrivelled almost, its colour an angry brick red.

Careful not to jar her poor abused crotch, Selkie carefully got up from the bed, keeping her taut thighs wide so the silver rings, now glinting in the sunlight and sending sparks of silvery liquid fire into the muted dusky blue of the room were glaringly obvious.

Walking almost comically, she hobbled to the camera and turned it off.

Then with her sweet plump buttocks flexing, she made it to the bathroom where she wet a soft cloth, squeezing out the water and leaving the cloth warm. Back in the bedroom, crawling up on the bed, she sighed, as the soft warm cloth soothed the burning agony of her abused cunt.

For half an hour, changing the cloth twice, Selkie sought to calm the pain. Slowly, her clit began to subside, the angry colour fading and the swollen painful length subsiding once again to nestle shyly between her plump labia.

Then sighing, Selkie got up, turning on the camera yet again.

"Master, - that just didn't work – I'm truly sorry – I just couldn't handle it."

"So I'm going to try it a different way."

"You told me I wasn't to cum – that I was to keep the vibrator on my clit for the full 10 minutes. But you didn't tell me I couldn't become aroused!"

Selkie grinned, her green eyes dancing and her sense of humour reasserting itself.

"So, Master, this is what I am going to do...."

Selkie lay back against the tumbled pillows against the headboard of the bed. Heavy lidded and sensuous, she turned her luscious gaze to the camera – imagining it was her Master standing there, not an inanimate instrument.

Cupping the small pale breasts and keeping her gaze straight into the lens, Selkie began to squeeze and compress her plump breasts, being careful to avoid the swollen plump nipples. Leaning back, she half closed her eyes, revelling in the feel of her breasts being caressed and moulded, running soft fingers up and down the swelling at the sides, flicking a nail against the sensitive underside.

Still cupping one breast, she focused again the camera.

"I'm going to touch my cunt now, Master, your cunt, the one you like to thrust your cock in."

Suiting action to words, her one hand now squeezing the small breast even harder, pink finger marks springing up on its pale surface, Selkie leaned over with her other hand. Stiffening her long fingers, she watched intently as she pushed them right up her own warm folds.

Sighing, eyes closing, she sank them deep, wiggling them slightly to feel the resistance against the hard digits.

"Oh god, it feels good Master, not as good as your stiff prick, but good."

"Do you want me to fuck myself, Master? With my fingers?"

Selkie's breath began to shorten as she began to push her stiff fingers in and out of the gaping cunt hole. She glanced up at the camera, her eyes hooded, just the green glow showing her increasing arousal.

The thought that her beloved D. would be watching this later – watching her naked and wanton, her fingers pushing in and out of her own cunt, one hand squeezing and pinching the soft full breast made her unbelievably hot.

In the pale golden silence of the room, Selkie's breath came quicker and the sound of moist, slick squishing was clear.

On her breast, Selkie's fingers went unbidden to the now stiffening nipple. Normally, a delicate almost translucent pink, the areole almost flesh coloured, as her arousal grew, her plump nipples hardened and the colour flushed crimson to the surface.

Leaning back, pulling her fingers, now glistening from the sucking folds of her cunt, Selkie looked straight into the camera.

"Look at my titties, Master, look!"

Cupping her breasts, she offered them to her lord. Swollen now, plump and firm, her nipples were engorged and swollen. Plucking the tips, Selkie pinched them sharply.

"Wouldn't you like to pinch them, Master, pull them and twist them? You know your Selkie would love that ... shall I put on my clamps, my dear sir?"

Leaning over, her breasts jiggling, Selkie reached into the drawer, pulling out two weighted clamps, a slender chain connecting them.

Cupping one swollen breast, she pinched the nipple between her thumb and forefinger, pulling it out from the swollen tip– carefully, she opened the little teeth of the clamp, and holding her breath, shut it on the swollen hard length of her nipple.

Selkie groaned as the clamp bit into her swollen nipple. Between her legs, she felt a gush and turning again to the camera, fumbled with the remote. Quickly, she focused first on her nipple, which now was a bright crimson and had swollen and extended even further, then breath coming quicker, she directed the lens, zooming in between her legs.

With the one clamp attached to her jiggling breast, Selkie showed her master how wet her cunt was getting. The smooth lips glistened in the muted golden light of the room, tendrils of sunlight caressing its slippery surface. The normally smooth pale lips of her labia were swollen, flushed with blood and arousal, they were pink and luscious.

Spreading her legs wider, Selkie reached down and inserting her two index fingers delicately in the hot swollen hole of her vagina, pulled it wide. A gush of clear, viscous liquid trickled out to run in a glistening line down to the crack of her ass.

"Look Master, my cunt is getting really, really wet. The clamp on my nipple, it made me gush – but not cum, sir, not that!".

Selkie felt a familiar heaviness in her hips. Slowly, she wriggled her ass into the bed, then with indrawn breath, quickly fastened the other clamp to the other breast.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, - see that master? The clamps are both on – look how they pull my breasts down – how they pinch my tits".

"Now, Master, now I'll try to do what you asked."

With that, Selkie took the vibrator – and with a smooth motion clicked it on and thrust it between her legs, the head directly on her aroused clit.

Selkie's heavy-lidded eyes gazed into the camera lens, unfocused now as the vibrating dildo now began to send waves of pleasure along the nerve endings, neurons snapping, endorphins floating through her body.

Half seeing, she took in the sight on the television screen. Her long pale body lay back against the pillows, her breasts swollen, the nipples crimson and obscenely obvious, their hard swollen length clamped between the cruel teeth. Her legs, pulled up and spread far apart, trembled as she pushed the big vibrator against her now swollen and aroused clit. Wiggling her ass, Selkie settled herself so her pulsing deep pink hole could be seen, a glistening trickle of arousal snaking out of its swollen depth.

Unbidden, her hips began to push against the hard dildo, seeking more of the delicious sensation now coursing through her body.

Deep in her own space, Selkie blindly turned to the timer which clicked away the minutes. 8 minutes.

"See Master, I'm doing it – it feels good, it feels good – do you see me, Master? Do you see my cunt drooling? Look at my titties, my dearest lord, look at your slave's tits – all swollen and hard – look at her cunt YOUR slave's cunt, the one you push your prick in and fuck and come in ..."

t her cunt YOUR slave's cunt, the one you push your prick in and fuck and come in ..."

Almost delirious, Selkie suddenly felt an overwhelming pressure, a pushing in the front of her groin.

Too late she realized what was occurring and tried to stop, with a cry she pulled the vibrator away from her cunt just as a thick spurt of clear liquid erupted from between her lips – further up than her drooling cunt hole and just below her clit.

With an inarticulate cry, Selkie capitulated, her hips jerking as one spurt, then another was forcibly ejected from her urethra.

Breast heaving, Selkie gave in as the clear watery liquid sprayed her taut thighs, breath short and panting, waves of pleasure coursing through her body.

"Oh Master – I ejaculated – that's not really a cum is it? You know for me it's lovely but not as good as the other."

She stumbled over her words, then hanging her head, ashamed, was silent.

Between her legs, a wet stain was mute witness to her disgrace.

After several minutes, the abashed pet decided to try for the third time to fulfill her punishment. Dusk was starting to mute the light which spilled in the high windows, sending shadowy fingers into dark corners, no longer sparking crimson but muted sherry in the tumbled curls.

Turning the timer to 11 minutes to allow for a margin of error, Selkie decided that this time she was going to succeed. Her D.'s reserved manner with her, apart from the fact he hadn't touched her in the several days since she had returned from Montreal, were killing her spirit.

Lying awake and unhappy beside his warm body, not daring to press up against him as was her wont, Selkie had turned yearning eyes on his sleeping form. Naked, he had turned, the sheets tossed off in the warmth of the room and she had his seen his prick, engorged and trembling, its pale surface and crimson head delectable. Unable to resist, she had slipped down and light as a fairy, had leaned over, holding back the tumble of red curls from his groin. Delicately, her small pink tongue had begun to lap at the delicious cock, its clever tip burrowing in the tiny winking eye which immediately began to leak a little rivulet of clear fluid.

Suddenly, she had felt a hand clamp onto the back of her neck. Looking up, beseechingly, she had met D.'s implacable gaze. Capitulating, tears filling the big eyes, she had crept back to her own side of the bed.

"I WILL do this!" she said fiercely.

Determined, her clit still throbbing, her breasts aching now from the clamps, Selkie took the vibrator, pushing it determinedly between her slippery thighs and turned it on as she flicked the timer.

Looking straight at the camera, Selkie worked at disassociating herself from her traitorous body. Gazing into its unwinking lens, she focused on the reality that D. would be looking at her later this night and she could not, would not, disappoint him a third time.

The minutes ticked by. Selkie's clit hummed and thrummed, this side of sore as she ruthlessly suppressed any sign of arousal. Her abuse of its sensitive skin, however, was serving now to provide a welcome numbness, allowing her to keep the vibrator firmly pressed against its errant hood without actually causing unbearable pain nor equally unwelcome arousal.

"I WILL do this," she mumbled fiercely, keeping her eyes trained on the implacable stare of the video cam.

Inside her head, a kaleidoscope of images and memories tumbled and ran riot; images of D.'s warm arms, the feel of his hands rubbing cream into swollen welts, the butterfly touch of his fingers as he barely caressed her soft breasts and most of all, the approving warmth of eyes, now glacier cold, turning warm and filling her heart with an overwhelming rush of love and need and contentment.

The buzzer going off startled her, and with an exclamation, Selkie dropped the buzzing instrument of torture.

A bit dazed, she looked the timer. Its small dial was quite decidedly at 0.

She had done it!

Turning to the camera, she allowed a shy smile.

"I've done it, Sir – I know it took a long time and you may not think I did it correctly, but I honestly tried my best. Please, darling Sir! Please forgive your naughty pet now!"

Selkie's huge eyes glittered as tears welled up then ran in a glistening trail from the corner of her eyes down to the small, sensuous mouth. Her dishevelled curls tumbled around the pale face, muted now as dusk lent a soft glow, softening edges and giving a pale translucence to white skin. Her breasts, still flushed and swollen, bobbed enticingly as she leaned forward, the long legs folded now.

Sighing, she slowly got up, a heavy ache in her groin. Despite ejaculating, Selkie had indeed not had a regular orgasm and while she truly enjoyed the former, it was the latter that provided the greatest pleasure and release.

Her clit felt swollen and sore, her nipples were hyper extended and crimson even as she undid the clamps and gave a deep breath as the harsh pressure of their teeth eased.

Turning off the camera, she went into the bathroom to run a bath.

_________________________-

Later that night, D. arrived home. Standing outside his house, he paused in the warm darkness of the spring evening, breathing deep the heady, sensuous scent of lily of the valley scattered throughout the grass and flowerbeds.

He knew his Selkie was distraught and unhappy and while he wasn't particularly happy about that, he knew that she had needed a strong lesson.

Entering the quiet house, he dropped his keys and briefcase and went straight to the bedroom. Noting the camera immediately, he nodded approvingly, then his strong featured face softened as he took in the tumbled sleeping figure of his sweet pet.

Quietly, careful not to wake her, he unbolted the camera from the tripod and brought it into his office. Hooking it up to his laptop, D. watched his darling complete her punishment.

Musing on the ejaculation, and looking again at the sad face, he decided he would allow her that little slip and prick throbbing, entered the bedroom to give her the good news.

Selkie woke gently, a familiar and pungent smell pushing through the threads of sleep and exhaustion to see her beloved D's prick in front of her face. Looking up, she saw his eyes, warm and caring and her heart soared. Happily, she opened her small lips and with a smooth thrust, D. impaled himself in her warm mouth.

D. knew indeed that it would be quite some time before this pet was naughty again!

Thursday, May 15, 2008

You're sitting in your office when I come in and close the door. The gentle breeze blows softly through the open window, while in the distance, the thud of a basketball and crystal sound of children shouting can be heard. You look at me enquiringly.

Saying nothing, I crouch and fumble with the buttons of your jeans. I get the first open, then the second and third. I stop and then reach in and pull out your thick fat cock. It is limp still, just starting to thicken. I like the way it looks lying limp on your thigh, its heavy head pointing down, the white shaft soft and vulnerable. The spongy tip of your prick is barely visible, hiding shyly in its wrinkled nest of skin, a shiny naked hint just visible.

I lean back on my haunches, then leaning forward I study it. You lean back, pushing your hips ever so slightly toward my face. As I watch intently, a clear drop of clear liquid wells up from the tip and oozes down your cock onto your jeans. A thin, sticky thread connects it still to your cock.

I lip your cock gently with my lips then, closing my eyes, I suck your entire prick into my mouth. I love this feeling. The tip of your prick touches the back of my throat and by hollowing my cheeks and sucking I can swallow it right to the base, where my lips ever so gently nip. I relish the silky feel of your skin, the musky scent composed of clean sweat, the sweet juice which flows from the tip and even a hint of urine, all mixing and combining in the delicious, arousing scent of you. At this point, I also love the gristly feel, the not quite hardness and love that I can get it all in my mouth.

I lie with my head on your knee sucking gently at the delicious morsel in my mouth. I love the way you start to harden as I suck, my warm mouth encircling your prick. Slowly, inexorably, your prick engorges with blood, its girth increasing, and rising stiffly to touch the roof of my mouth. I feel powerful and sensual, your slave serving her Master.

I hear your heartbeat as my ear lies across your thigh. Now my lips can barely enclose the stiff prick which thrusts into my tongue. I pull back, gently and suck the mushroom head, lapping at the juice which now dribbles in a constant slow sweet stream from the tip.

Sitting back on my haunches I look again. Your prick stands straight and thick and full from between the flaps of your jeans. There is something intensely erotic about you sitting there, your T-shirt untouched, your jeans snugly fitting and only the great stiff prick protruding from the front. Somehow, your prick seems more naked and I feel my cunt tighten and contract, a foretaste of pleasure to come.

The juice between my thighs runs in streams down the sensitive inner skin, dribbling down to my knee in a glistening stream of visible excitement. I stand and pull my skirt up to my waist and display my wet glistening cunt to your gaze. I tip forward my hips so you can clearly see the slit, my inner lips already swollen, their normally pink tones, red and engorged with blood. You see to the nub of my clitoris.

You reach for me but I don't let you. I ache for you to touch me but again I crouch, keeping the skirt well above my waist so that when you look down you can see how my cunt splits from my position. You can see the red lips flowering from between the paler naked skin of the outer lips and in this position, my clitoris is forced up and out of its little hiding place.

I lean forward and fumble with one more button, then gently, carefully reach inside your pants to cup and then pull gently at your balls. Ever so delicately I pull them up and out of your jeans, tugging slightly to pull them over the still closed buttons. I lay them down.

I sit back and gaze on the incredibly erotic sight which fills my sight, intoxicates my senses. Your stiff prick stands straight and tall, its crimson head uncovered and glistening with a combination of my saliva and the juice from your own arousal. A constant stream of pre-cum nectar dribbles from the small hole at the tip, trailing down the thick white shaft and dampening the jeans. Your balls, tender eggs encased in soft furry sacks look large and swollen, pushed up as they are from beneath.

Your entire sex is now completely visible now although your clothes remain largely untouched. To see your cock and balls like that is incongruous and totally exciting, displayed for my pleasure only; yet there is mastery in their impudence, a statement that they are there and I am here to worship them.

I feel a masochistic thrill of excitement that makes my breasts stiffen. I like this feeling that I am nothing but a slave to you, that you can't be bothered to even undress, but just as you have a coffee when thirsty or take a piss when your bladder is full, I am a convenience, here to be used.

I feel my cunt contract and a strong spurt of juice runs down the crack of my ass.

I cannot wait any longer. Although I long to touch myself, I do not allow myself to do so. Crouching I reach out and grasp your beloved prick firmly at the base and lower my mouth. My head bobs up and down as I suck strongly at your cock. You push my forehead back so that you can better see your engorged cock appearing and disappearing into the small prison of my mouth. I can tell that you are pleased by the way my small mouth is strained and pulled by the girth of your prick.

Reaching down you command me to pull up my shirt. I do so, exposing my plump, yearning breasts, their tips red and engorged and stiff, their softness quivering and jiggling as my head pumps up and down. You watch my tits bob up and down and I feel your prick stiffen even more. At the base of your prick I feel that thrumming and the ache in my cunt is almost painful. I know that your cum is gathering by the tightening and drawing up of your hairy balls into your groin.

Suddenly, you grasp my head on either side and roughly pull me down hard on your cock. Then raising your hips slightly you begin to pump your prick rapidly in and out of my mouth. I choke slightly but you do not stop, merely adjusting the angle slightly so the tip of your cock goes further down my throat.

I am in ecstasy as I feel your prick pounding in my soft mouth. I know that in your mind there is only a desire to conquer, to thrust, to pump your load into the softness in which it is encased. I suck wildly at your rapidly pumping cock, gagging a bit and choking and feeling as if my cunt was going to shatter. I hear you gasp, I hear you call me slut, and tell me that I am going to get what I am looking for, that you are going to shoot your cum right down my throat.

Suddenly, you pull the back of my head roughly to your groin and with a groan you discharge. I feel your prick jerk and shudder as hot, liquid sperm shoots from the tip, filling my mouth and sliding down my throat. I swallow quickly, terrified of losing even a drop but despite my efforts, as your cock continues to spurt, my mouth fills and starchy white cum drips from the corner of my mouth.

The throbbing begins to slow and slowly your prick empties itself. I rest my head on your thighs, holding your softening prick between my lips. It seems like a long time but I am loath to let it go. We both start a bit as we hear a dripping. I reluctantly release your prick and look between my thighs. My cunt is literally streaming juice so that it is actually audibly striking the floor like raindrops.

You pull me to my feet, grabbing my hips and pulling them to you. You barely touch my cunt, flicking the sensitive nub of my pleasure. Like a huge black wave, my orgasm erupts and my cunt convulses. Moaning, my legs buckle as my contractions hit. I fall to my knees. You pull me close and meet my lips in a fierce clinging kiss. Your tongue invades my mouth and you suck gently, pulling in the remnants of your cum and sharing the taste of your pleasure.

An eon later, the throbbing subsiding, I look at you. Your prick is soft now and lies flaccid and innocent on your thigh. Leaving over I very, very gently lick it clean. I do the same with your balls, running my tongue over and under their tenderness. Gently I pull open your fly and place your prick and your balls reverently back in and button you.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Mario's voice was aggrieved. Steph paused and turning, looked at her husband as he sprawled in his favourite chair, the TV remote clutched in one hand.

"You know that Gabrielle and I have the book club tonight!" she answered, her slender arms reaching up to thrust a pin in the piled hair.

"That's three nights this week – you're never home!"

Steph stopped fussing and turned to Mario. A pang of guilt arrowed through her as she took in his plaintive expression. He really had been sweet about all the time she was spending away from home and in view of the fact that he wasn't used to her being out and about all the time, he had been remarkably patient. She felt even guiltier as she thought how angry and yes – she admitted to herself – devastated, he would be if he knew how she was really spending that time.

Hair tousled and still damp, Mario's curls sprang about his head, framing the strong features. Shirtless from the shower he always took the moment he got home (construction work being hot, dirty and exhausting work), his chest was heavily muscled and broad, curly black hair trailing from the hard nub of his nipples in a line, disappearing into the tight jeans which hugged his narrow hips and outlined the strong thighs.

Looking at him, Steph felt a frisson of affection and as her eyes following the trail of hair to the flat belly, an arrow of lust swept through her. It had been some time since she and Mario had had sex and although her knees even now went weak, thinking of Gaby's soft mouth between her thighs, the thought of her husband's thick prick was making her nipples harden.

For a moment, confusion raced through her – did she love Gaby? Did she love Mario? The problem was, she thought unhappily, she loved them both.

Other than his distaste for her unusual wetness, Mario was a loving husband. Not only did he spoil her materially but he was always making spontaneous sweet gestures like bringing home a huge bouquet of spring flowers or sweeping her up when he finished work and treating her to a romantic dinner. He gave her a generous allowance and never questioned how much she spent on the house.

Mario was proud of his pretty, clever wife and had proved to be a stalwart defender when her mother in law and even her own mother pressured her to get pregnant. It wasn't that she didn't want children, just not now. She knew she should be far more appreciative of his forbearance for many of her contemporaries were working on their second and third children while she was allowed to exercise her creative bent in decorating.

And, she thought truthfully to herself – she did love that beautiful prick – there was something about the way that hard length felt between her legs, pushing up into her ... Steph shivered, her nipples hardening.

Watching her, Mario watched a myriad of expressions cross his wife's expressive face. For a moment, he saw her anew – and was suddenly struck by how wonderful she looked. A conservative dresser for most of the time he had known her, he wondered when she had started to change.

He watched as Steph studied her image in the hall mirror, pulling a curl out here, pinning one up there. Her posture pulled her heavy breasts up and Mario noted the way they almost spilled out of the low necked sweater which clung to their full, swollen orbs. He frowned. That top was awfully tight he thought to himself. Her skirt, a short, flippy denim barely brushed the top of her taut thighs and her legs looked long and shapely.

His prick stirred. Construction season was largely seasonal and he had to take the work when he could get it. Working 14 hour days sometimes, he had been coming home, showering, eating and falling into bed in a haze of exhaustion. Torrential rain and high winds had cut short his work day and he had arrived home unusually early for this season. Relatively rested, he started feeling quite aroused as he watched his very sexy wife getting ready.

"Steph...". Mario said wheedling.

"Do you have to go out tonight?"

Steph paused. She felt bad as she saw his hopeful face,. Glancing at her watch, she saw she was, as usual, early. Looking at him, Steph thought he looked rather adorable and again, felt a twitching between her legs. She really had been neglecting him, she thought.

Already aroused in anticipation of Gaby's expert ministrations, Steph looked at her handsome husband and decided she had more than enough time to indulge.

Dropping her purse, Steph smiled, a long slow seductive smile that startled Mario at the same time as it aroused him. Clicking on 4inch heels, she strutted to her husband, breasts jouncing in their skimpy bra, hips swishing. Falling to her knees, she pushed his thick muscled legs apart, running her hands along their strong length and looking up into his dark brown eyes, now growing hot as she nestled between his legs.

Leaning into him, she closed her eyes and rubbed her face lightly against the bulge in his pants, breathing in the musky male scent, so different from Gaby's uniquely feminine odour. Under the skimpy shirt, her nipples hardened, an atavistic reaction to male testosterone.

Beneath her soft cheek, she felt the heavy prick stir.

Turning her face, Steph placed her lips against the length of his prick, breathing warm breath along its twitching breadth,

Mario sighed, leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes, his prick starting to throb and thicken as he anticipated his wife's ministrations. In the conservative culture from which they both sprang, fellatio was not considered something "nice" girls did – when Mario discovered that not only was Steph willing but also was eager, he felt he had truly lucked into the bridal lottery.

Steph rubbed her lips along the burgeoning length of her husband's prick, feeling the moist warmth through the material of his pants. Extending a pink tongue, she licked along the zipper, making the aroused man jump. He could feel her warm moist breath even through the stuff of the jeans.

Expertly, Steph unzipped and unbuttoned. As she unclasped the last button, the spongy moist tip of Mario's prick, laying stiff now against his belly, peaked out, a drool of clear liquid dribbling from its winking tip.

Licking her lips, feeling a tugging in her groin, Steph reached in, pulling the stiff length free of its constricting underwear.

Holding it tight at the base, Steph studied Mario's prick, her breath shortening as she took in its swollen girth. Although not particularly long, his prick was thick and pale against the tanned expanse of skin, blue veins snaking under delicate translucent skin, the crimson head bulging and mushroom shaped. It looked, she mused, absolutely delicious.

Taking a deep breath, Steph leaned forward, pressing her warm heavy breasts into Mario's legs and with a smooth, practiced motion, sank her warm mouth down the length of prick.

Holding the base tightly, rubbing her hand up and down the velvety smooth skin in tandem with her mouth, Steph felt herself getting wet. The smell, that rich, yeasty pungent aroma – so different from the lighter, more astringent smell of Gaby and so familiar – for so many years she had been associating that smell with equally delicious sex.

The feel of him in her mouth, the gristly muscle beneath its velvet skin, the spongy drooling head, the tart flavour of precum dripping down her throat. She gagged slightly as Mario's hips began to push harder into her mouth, stretching even her generous lips and making her breathe strongly through her nose, her throat blocked with burgeoning prick.

Steph closed her eyes, pushing her breasts against Mario's muscled thighs each time she sank her mouth down to encompass that beautiful prick to its base. She breathed through her nose to enable her to suck the entire length in her generous mouth. As her arousal increased, Steph's rhythm grew more regular and beneath her expert ministrations, her husband's narrow hips began to tremble and tighten.

Mario's breath was harsh now. Unbidden, his hands went to the dark curls, tangling in their ebony silken length and pressing down on the warm skull, pushing that delicious mouth even further down his throbbing cock.

"Oh God, baby, keep going, keep going!"

The sound of his voice, harsh and masculine made Steph moan around the pumping cock stuffing her mouth. Unable to help herself, she cupped one of her breasts, squeezing its heavy plump weight.

Mario suddenly began groaning, his hands tightened almost painfully on her curls and suddenly, with a long hiss, he shoved his cock as deep as he could within its warm prison. A long hot spurt of sperm hit the back of Steph's throat, almost causing her to gag. Thick and viscous, it filled her mouth as his jerking prick began to empty its load onto her willing tongue. Spurt after spurt filled her warm mouth, until, choking and laughing, she pulled back, hot, glistening cum trailing down the corners of her mobile mouth and dribbling from the sensuous full lower lip.

Holding his still throbbing cock, Steph watched as the last remnants dribbled from the tip of the swollen prick, swallowing her delicious mouthful. Then leaning down, she swept her long pink tongue up the length of the rapidly softening member, sipping up the remainder of the offering.

Then with the tip of her tongue, she licked around her own lips. Standing and placing Mario's prick tenderly across the strong thigh, she smiled affectionately at her husband. Mario grinned up at her, his eyes still a bit glazed. Reaching for her hand, he kissed her palm and then her wrist.

Feeling a wellspring of affection, Steph leaned forward to kiss his lips. Mario winced as her mouth came near and Steph realized that he was repulsed by the thought of kissing her with remnants of his own cum on her lips. Unbidden, she thought of Gaby, her mouth wet and glistening, rising up from between her legs to meet Steph's lips with a long clinging, loving meshing of tongues..

Steph felt sad. Sighing, forcing a smile, she sketched a wave, grabbed her purse and walked briskly to the door. Mario, satiated, turned to the European football now on,

___________________________________________

Worried, Gaby glanced at her watch.

Steph was NEVER late. In fact, she was as Gaby termed it "anally time obsessed" and was always at least 20 minutes early. Thus, while Steph was only 10 minutes late, that was so unlike her, Gaby started fretting about possible car accidents. Her heart constricted at the thought of her beautiful girl hurt or frightened. The club was loud and raucous, and the music pounded in her ears, distracting and irritating whereas when she had first come in, it had sounded upbeat and seductive.

Brushing the straight blond fringe to one side, she tapped her fingers nervously on the table top. Around her, the predominantly female crowd in this very lesbian oriented club swayed and danced to the music. At the booth beside her, a striking black girl, hair exotic in tightly bound corn rows and with high pointed breasts, was passionately locked in an embrace with a tiny Asian girl dressed flirtily in a school girl kilt and demure white blouse. As Gaby watched, almost blindly, the black girl's long beautiful hand pulled the blouse out from the waist and snaked up to cup the small childish breast of her lover.

"Gaby!"

Gaby's head snapped up and across the room, she saw her sweetie waving madly, laughing as she tried to negotiate her way across the crowded dance floor without bumping into too many bodies.

A spear of jealousy when through her as she saw a pretty redhead turn to Steph, and obviously drunk, pull that dark-haired head toward her for a passionate kiss. Gaby watched as the redhead's hand snaked up and grasped the swollen breast of her lover, squeezing its delectable weight.

Before Gaby could get up and create a scene, Steph broke away and laughingly patting the girl's face, made her way to Gaby, grimacing humorously as she neared.

"God, - that girl was sooooo drunk!" she said laughing.

"Well, you didn't look too unhappy." Gaby said icily.

Leaning over, Steph pulled the blonde's head to her and soft lips met hers in a clinging, loving kiss. Weakening, Gaby stood, pulling the girl to her, her arms going possessively around the small, sexy body. The kiss deepened and Gaby used her experienced tongue to probe between Steph's lips. As she closed her eyes and tangled her tongue with her lover's, she suddenly tasted something she hadn't tasted before in her lover's mouth.

"What's that?" she said, with a forced laugh, jealousy squirming in her breast.

"I know what that tastes like!"

Steph flushed crimson as Gaby laughed at her. Before she could pull away, Gaby leaned down, her long mobile mouth capturing Steph's. Holding tightly to her, pressing her own small firm breasts against Steph's more generous bounty, Gaby leisurely explored the moist mouth, tasting the remnants of tangy sperm that clung there. Possessively, she swept her own tongue around that warm moist cavern, ridding the sensitive palette of the male detritus, and in the process, leaving her own sweet smelling mark.

"So that's why you're late." Gaby said.

"I'm sorry, sweet one! But he looked so unhappy ... and I've been out so much this week and I was afraid if I didn't do something he would make me stay in ... and how ..."

"It's ok, really, it's ok!"

Gaby took Steph's head between her hands, her blue eyes serious as she captured her friend's big brown gaze, now worried and frightened. Gaby knew she had to play this carefully. Steph was only now beginning to bloom. Constrained and caught by a culture that taught restraint and discouraged anything out of the status quo, Steph had already taken a giant step away from her beginnings. Gaby couldn't bear to lose her now if conscience and strictures taught and drummed into her as a child emerged victorious.

Gently, she shook the girl's head.

"Silly thing! It's not as if I didn't know you weren't married! I certainly assumed you would continue to have sex with your husband –whether because you wanted to or to keep him quiet – it didn't matter – I knew it would happen!"

"Look, Steph, I KNOW you have to fuck your husband! It's not as if I find that repugnant or anything – I mean I have been known to have a cock or two in my day!"

Surprised, Steph's gaze widened.

"Don't look so shocked! Nothing wrong with a stiff prick once in a while – bottom line is I love women best and all my serious relationships have been with girls, but sometimes its fun to swing the other way too!"

"Wanna dance, doll?"

The inebriated redhead, face blurred with drink, large sagging breasts barely contained in a skimpy halter, ran her hand along the plump globes of Steph's bottom.

"Butt out, sweetie – she is taken!" Gaby said firmly.

Turning to Steph, Gaby grabbed her hand.

"Do you want to stay here? Or shall we go back to my place?" she asked.

Steph, busy removing the redhead's hand yet again from her shapely derriere, nodded.

"Yeah, I think it might be safer," she said, grinning.

Hand in the hand, the two girls made their escape into the sweetness of a spring evening.

Dusk had fallen in soft folds of midnight lace, soft and sweet, the air dreamed of lilac and lily of the valley, blooming under budding beginning green trees and the shy, painfully beautiful freshness of plants awakening from winter's rest.

Hand in hand, they strolled streets now busy with people seeking the solace of renewal, winter worn faces pale and hopeful as spring wrought its magic in tired eyes and awakening limbs.

Steph sighed. The air was fresh after the rain earlier in the day and taking a deep breath, she filled her lungs. A sense of freedom held her in thrall for just a moment in time – holding her friend's hand, strolling through the eclectic, quirky district of Queen West, Steph felt as if she had awoken from a long sleep.

Key in hand, Gaby opened the door into a riot of colour and warmth. For a moment, she paused, struck anew in what a difference this small person was making in her life. An inveterate and unapologetic home renovation addict, Steph had begun first surreptitiously, then more overtly to transform Gaby's former serviceable but uninspired flat into a haven of warmth, colour and uniqueness.

Gaby was an inspired buyer for her lingerie store; with an instinctive appreciation of fine fabrics, shape and form which left every figure type seductive. Colours for flesh she understood – the tones that enhanced a cool olive, the rich tones which warmed pale white. , Fabric she understood with a knowledge and insight garnered from years of experience and an instinct that seldom steered her wrong – from rich brocades to innocent cottons, she had an unerring eye. But there her creativity ended – for her, her flat was simply a place she slept and restless Gaby was usually out and about.

Things had changed when Steph had come along.

Gaby hadn't planned that – she had intended a quick affair. Captivated and aroused by both the beauty and innocence of this pretty brunette, she had been caught unawares and in the quest for seduction had found herself reluctantly and unexpectedly charmed and captivated. Discovering and encouraging Steph's shy wit and sharp intelligence had been immensely provocative. Coupled with the overwhelming physical attraction she felt every time she looked at Steph, Gaby found herself starting to plan her time off around Steph's limited availability. She had watched indulgently when Steph's normal reticence had given way to confidence and even bossiness when she saw that Gaby had no objection to her redecorating schemes.

Noting that Gaby had no interest and was simply indulgent with her inveterate decorating, Steph had gone to town. Released from the strictures of satin couches, plastic covered lamps and elaborate poufy window treatments common and considered the epitome of style in her own culture, Steph had indulged her passionate love of colour and texture.

Flea market finds like a rickety chair, were stripped and painted a rustic, soft blue; vibrant curtains, flowing and airy, hung at sparkling windows, eclectic and unusually shaped cushions now softened the big couch, while medieval tapestries she had made with bargain basement fabric and Home Depot wooden spools decorated terra cotta walls. The whole effect was utterly charming, warm, vibrant and welcoming with a quirky, offbeat charm that had Gaby's friends asking her who her decorator was.

Kicking off her heels, Gaby sighed with relief and sank onto the welcoming settee, throwing long, lean legs up on a wide seat strewn with cushions. Leaning forward, she grabbed Steph's hand and pulled her down in front of her, pushing the narrow shoulders until Steph, capitulating, leaned against her..

"The thing is, I know you love your husband. I'm willing to share – I mean, it's not like I have a choice."

Still talking, Gaby pulled at Steph's jacket until the small brunette, curls dishevelled and sexy sat forward, allowing Gaby to pull it off her slender arms.

Leaning back, Steph closed her eyes. Gaby felt good against her back, the small firm breasts pressing into the sweep of skin, Gaby's firm shoulder comforting against her curls, the long, gorgeous legs cupping her own shapely curves in sweet restraint.

Gaby's hands, tender and delicate as a butterfly, ran long mobile fingers along the slope of narrow shoulders and down the thin curve of waist, pausing for a moment, to encircle and caress the slightly rounded firm belly and then sweeping up to barely touch the heavy underside of generous breasts.

Steph sighed, revelling in the feel of Gaby's hands at her sensitive breasts, relishing the energy radiating from them, that somehow felt like touching but wasn't. Her breasts, engorged and almost painful, seemed to swell into Gaby's magic hands, seeking the caress of mobile fingers and soft tips.

Between her legs, Steph felt the first stirrings of arousal.

"I'm confused and that's the truth," she confessed.

"I mean, this, what you're doing, it feels so bloody good – so sexy – and makes me so very hot".

Steph's voice was a bit breathless now as Gaby's hands never missed a beat, barely rubbing, flicking and hardly touching, until she wanted to shove her breasts into those teasing hands.

Steph's head felt heavy and languorous; her eyes closed, she breathed in the scent of her friend, the feel of her sweet breath light on cheek.

"I love being with you, Gaby," she admitted.

"You're one of the first people in my life that I feel sees me as a whole – not just a 'good daughter', an 'appropriate wife', but someone with a brain and an opinion and the ability to think and debate."

Gaby pulled Steph close, nestling her tighter between her legs, relishing the feel of the firm, compact body against her own, the warmth of the smooth creamy skin. Gaby's normally sharp blue eyes softened as she took in the sweet curve of cheek, the long straight nose, the silken hair.

"And what about this?" she said teasingly, and her hands swept up to cup the yearning heavy breasts, squeezing and moulding their delicious warm flesh.

Gaby pushed her forward and with expert fingers pulled the top over her friend's tousled head, rubbing a hand down the long sweep of back. Steph sighed, shivering as her nerve endings vibrated. Leaning forward slightly, she looked down at the swelling globes of her own breasts, loving the way the pale sweet flesh overflowed the wisp of soft lace barely cupping their plenitude. She gave a soft groan as Gaby's expert fingers released the clasp in the back, and sighed in relief as the heavy breasts were freed.

Then, taking a deep breath, she grasped Gaby's hand as it swept around to squeeze her breast.

"Hold on – I have to say something."

Steph scrambled forward to her knees, then bracing herself against the long smooth length of her friend's leg, turned to face her.

Gaby's face softened. Steph, her mobile features serious, gazed at her. She had no idea, Gaby realized, how utterly seductive she looked. Her gorgeous ebony hair was piled in artful disarray atop her small, well shaped head, curls springing and twisting, one fat black ringlet brushing the creamy, sloping shoulders. Her eyes, huge, a deep brown so intense as to be almost black gazed levelly at her girlfriend.

Steph's shoulders were narrow but fine, her torso slender, almost too much so for the glorious abundance of breast, swelling heavy globes with a rich, full underhang, the brown nipples prominent, puckering and elongating as they reacted to Gaby's hot gaze. Steph's waist was tiny while the sweep from its narrow circumference out to swelling hip was breathtaking. She sat facing Gaby, her legs, clad in sheer black stockings were shapely and muscular.

"No – stop looking at me like that," said Steph, grinning and trying to keep serious.

"I have to say something."

Gaby's blue eyes met Steph's.

"What do you want to say, sweetheart? You know you can tell me – just DON'T tell me that we're done."

Without realizing it , Gaby let a worried note creep into her voice. Self sufficient, fiercely independent, Gaby was proud of the fact that she had largely survived to this point on her own – with no help. She had had girlfriends but most of her relationships were fairly shallow and short-term. Until Steph, she had thought herself incapable of feeling deeply for another human being.

Then the vivacious, adorable, creative, intelligent bundle that made this captivating woman so fascinating had come into her life and there was no going back.

Steph looked miserable, a sheen filming the brandy-coloured eyes.

"I love being with you, Gaby – you know that. But sometimes, well .sometimes I just feel so guilty - I feel that I'm not just deceiving Mario but also that I'm deceiving you – that I'm being unfair to both of you because I'm so wishy washy I can't make up my mind which direction to take!"

"The fact of the matter is, I feel like I am waking up after a very long sleep – sometimes I feel like a butterfly as trite as that sounds. My mind – well, it feels like for the first time since I was born, it is actually being stretched.

Steph sat back on her heels, her heavy breasts hanging full and lovely against her chest.

"But Mario is a good man – a kind man – he has been wonderful to me – and I still like having sex with him – I won't lie to you – problem is, I like having sex with YOU also."

Steph looked so confused and sad, that Gaby's heart ached. Reaching out, she gently traced Steph's jaw, her finger trailing to outline the full, sensuous lower lip. Delicately, she pushed a finger tip just into the warm moistness of Steph's mouth. Sighing, Steph closed her eyes, swaying forward, breasts swollen, fastening her lips over Gaby's finger and sucking in the tip.

Gaby pulled her hand free and grasping her friend by the shoulders, drew her close.

"Sweetheart – we've been seeing each other what? 6 months? In some ways that is a long time, in others it is just a flash in the pan."

"I won't lie to you – I would like more time with you – but I knew when we got together you had a life and a busy one at that. You've never ever said Mario was cruel – although it pisses me royally that he can't accept your wonderful sexuality – always, you've told me how well he treats you."

"But do you have to make a decision right now? tonight? I mean, why don't you allow things to take their course – I've learned that fate is something that happens no matter what – so why hurry it? If I don't mind sharing and Mario doesn't know – there is no harm done to anyone."

Reaching, Gaby pulled the long slender neck and worried face to hers. Soft lips met in a clinging passionate kiss, tongues probing and tangling, sinuous and provocative. Breathing deeply into each other's mouths, holding tightly to Steph's shoulders, Gaby could feel herself moisten as the warmth of Steph's mouth, the hot thrusting tongue, the smell of her skin and feel of her caused her heart to beat frantically.

Reluctantly, she pulled away, and impatiently pulled at her own top, snapping a button off as she fumbled at its tiny pearl covered fastenings.

Laughing throatily, Steph touched her hand, quietening her. With trembling fingers, Steph carefully unbuttoned and drew the silky blouse off the blonde's broad, slightly freckled shoulders, the fine bones sharp under translucent skin. She sat back slightly on her heels, admiring the look of Gaby's strong beautiful torso, her breasts soft and firm under a silky camisole. Pulling the slip up from the waist, she gasped as the swollen, crimson nipples came into sight.

"God, your breasts are so beautiful," she breathed reverently.

Leaning, she lipped one swollen nipple, pulling it gently between her lips and suckling. Gaby groaned and throwing back her head, clasped the dark head to her breast.

Steph's hand came up to cup her delicious morsel of flesh. She revelled in the feel of this woman's breast, the slightly elastic feel of the firm, warm flesh, the softness so delicious to squeeze and mould, the feel of the long sensitive nipple between her lips. She had never envisioned what a woman's breast tasted like until Gaby and had she even for a moment, tried to imagine, could never have come up with the reality of rich, soft woman flesh. The spongy firm taste of the nipple, piquant and soft, the erotic feel of firm flesh in her hand were not something that could be described until your own hand cupped such a breast.

Overbalancing, Gaby shrieked as she tumbled to the floor, bringing her dark haired friend with her. Laughing, the two girls landed in a tangle of silken limbs and jouncing breasts.

Lying unhurt, they grinned at each other.

Pulling herself to her feet, Gaby pulled Steph up.

"Come on you, the bedroom is better anyway!"

Steph turned, then stopped as Gaby halted her. Bending slightly, Gaby unbuttoned the short flippy skirt, tugging until Steph wiggling, stepped out of it, leaving it in a pile on the floor.

Then arms on her shoulders, guiding, she pushed her friend forward, watching as the full, plump buttocks flexed and unflexed as Steph, still wearing her silky stockings and 4 inch heels headed for the bedroom.

Getting to the huge king-size bed, Gaby turned Steph to face her. Again, she leaned and with soft lips caught the brunette's in a clinging passionate kiss, thrusting her tongue in and around the hot warm mouth.

Then pushing gently, she sat her down. A further slight shove and Steph lay on her back, her taut thighs slightly gaping.

Gaby stood back, taking a deep breath. Steph lay back, big eyes heavy lidded and languorous, the ebony hair mussed, silken strands laying in provocative curls against her long slender neck. Her heavy breasts fell to each side in sweet succulent mounds. Steph's slightly rounded belly was a expanse of soft flesh, her hips a symphony of curves which swept down to the long slender thighs, their pale taut flesh almost obscenely displayed against the dark silk of the stockings. Kneeling, Gaby pushed Steph's thighs slightly apart, running her fingers along the silk of the stockings, relishing the feel of its slick surface. Her breath quickened as she took in the splendour of the girl's darkly haired cunt.

Crystal drops of arousal bedewed the dark pubic hair, clinging to its curls and glistening in the long crimson slit.

"Oh, you beautiful darling!"

Gaby breathed reverently, her hand unconsciously running up and down the shapely calf and thigh softly clad by clinging silk.

Gently but firmly, Gaby pushed Steph's thighs apart then up, pushing her knees up towards her chest. In doing so, the crimson slit of Steph's cunt gaped wide, revealing the deep swollen folds of her sweet hole. Her small shy clit was just peeking between the folds of her labia, stiff and swollen. As Gaby gazed hungrily at the scrumptious cunt, a clear trickle of arousal snaked out of the swollen folds to run in a glistening stream down the deep crack of her plump buttocks.

Leaning into the apex of Steph's thighs, Gaby closed her eyes and breathed in the sweet, exciting scent of aroused female, musky and delicious.

"Kiss me, darling, please lick me!"

Steph's voice was pleading, breathless and sent a thrill of pure lust snaking through Gaby's heart. Her breasts felt swollen and heavy and between her legs, she felt her own clean shaven mound clench, then release a sweet trickle of hot arousal to drip down her thighs.

Unable to resist, she fastened her mouth on the hot swollen cunt of her friend, her tongue snaking between the tightly furled labia to lap at the long crimson slit. Expert and clever, Gaby's tongue played a symphony, tickling, lapping, pushing. Stiffening her pink tongue she would push its length right up the gaping hungry cunt then sweep out to lap at the throbbing clit which trembled at the tip.

Helpless, Steph's hips jerked and gyrated, pushing her mound into the hot lapping tongue, unconsciously grasping and moulding her own heavy breasts. She could feel it, the pulling deep within her womb, the aching heavy feel of her cervix throbbing and the unique pushing which she and a very few others felt just above her urethra.

"Yes, yes, yes..." she was barely aware of her own breathless voice.

She was close, so close.... Moaning, she grasped her long thick nipple between her slender fingers, pinching tightly and sending a strumming line of arousal from her breast to her womb.

Then suddenly, just when she thought she was coming to the peak, Gaby pulled away.

Turning to her side table, she bent, her small breasts jouncing, their bright crimson nipples hyper extended, the long hard tips shivering. Pulling open the drawer, she pulled out a soft scarf and before Steph can react, has wrapped it around her friend's huge eyes.

Startled, Steph shook her head, then subsided as her friend ran a soothing hand along her neck.

Obediently, she turned as Gaby pushed her onto her front, cupping the swollen mounds of her breasts for a sweet warm caress as she did so. Pulling Steph's hips, Gaby had her kneel on the bed, the plump, full buttocks slightly gaping and the long crimson slit obscenely obvious from the protruding swollen clit now peeking between the labia to the deep mysterious indention of her fundament.

Steph felt disoriented and dazed, her cunt throbbing and aching almost painfully, her breasts falling from her narrow chest, their hard brown tips almost sweeping the bed. She felt vulnerable and open, a sensation which only increased Steph's arousal.

She heard Gaby rummaging, and her ears acute as her sight was now compromised, strained to make out what she was doing.

She jumped as she felt her friend's hands on her hips and whimpering, pushed her tight ass back against her.

Startled, Steph felt a firm bulbous head push against the swollen folds of her cunt. Helpless, she pushed back against it, her cunt aching to be filled, her clit almost painfully sensitive. Her breath stopped as a hard swollen length pushed aside the distended crimson folds of her cunt and inexorably thrust its wide, hard length right up her aching passage.

"What?"

"Shhhhh, don't worry, darling, I'm just going to fuck you now – you want that don't you?"

Gaby's voice was hoarse and raspy, her excitement palpable in the warm, musky air of the room.

Holding tightly to Steph's hips, Gaby's eyes glittered as she watched the black, swollen dildo sink into the swollen red cunt, its hard plastic length re-emerging glistening with the hot wet arousal of her friend.

Sweat gathered and began to drip down her flushed forehead, as Gaby found a rhythm. Holding tightly to Steph's hips, eyes glued to the sight of the black cock pushing in and out, her face was flushed, her eyes glittering and hectic.

"yes, yes, yes." Steph was in a fugue- sensation overpowering her as she helplessly thrust against the hard intrusion, the almost painful thrusting of this big intruder into her delicate interior unbelievably erotic. The pressure in the front of her cunt was almost overwhelming as the fluid gathered in the gland just above her urethra. As the hard plastic prick thrust in and out in a mad rhythm, it pressed against the rough, spongy G spot at almost the exact right angle.

Gaby leaned over the pistoning hips, keeping the big dildo buried in that scrumptious cunt and pulling at Steph's shoulders.

Rearing up, Steph leaned back against her friend, her breasts jiggling and jouncing, their hard dark tips swollen and engorged.

Gaby's breathing was harsh and uneven. She felt powerful, aggressive and sexual – a predator taking her prey – her big fake prick battering and raping her mate. Filling her hands with her Steph's warm overflowing flesh, she squeezed and moulded the heavy globes then grasped the engorged nipples between thumb and forefinger.

Deep within her, Gaby felt her orgasm building. Her own clit was unusually large – stiff and elongated, obscenely obvious between the swollen pale folds of her shaved cunt, the hard plastic nub at the apex of the strap on cock pushed rhythmically against her clit each time she thrust its heavy length into that luscious cunt.

Steph wailed, a long drawn out undulating scream as her orgasm suddenly hit.

Gaby yelled as she felt Steph's cunt tighten on her big strap-on dildo and frantically reached forward, releasing one heavy breast to fall against the narrow chest to cup between Steph's trembling taut thighs.

A stream of hot, clear liquid spurted out from between the tightly furled labia as Steph ejaculated. Gaby groaned as the hot stream filled her cupped palm, soaking and then running over her wrist as her hips writhed and she thrust hard into the warm sucking cunt.

Harshly, she fucked the dildo hard against the now throbbing cunt, feeling Steph's contractions against her groin as she buried the dildo as deep as it would go. Spurt after spurt of clear ejaculate exploded out from between Steph's clenched thighs, soaking the bed and sending Gaby over the precipice.

Yelling, she thrust again and again in rhythm with Steph's own contractions, a deep red flush sweeping over the pale breasts as her own cunt poured sweet arousal, clear and sticky trailing down the inside of her narrow thighs. Her palm wet and glistening, her breasts heaving, Gaby screamed as her orgasm poured over her. Thrusting helplessly, she fucked Steph's spasming cunt with long hard thrusts in rhythm with the contractions which rolled over her in a powerful stream of pure sensation.

Panting, leaning over Steph's trembling back, her hand glistening, Gaby felt as if her heart was going to explode out of her chest.

As her contractions lessened and began to die down, she pulled back, her breath ragged and breathless, the long black cock pulling wetly out of the sucking confines of Steph's cunt with a hot sucking sound.

Collapsing on the bed, she pulled the shaking Steph down beside her, sweeping off the blindfold and turning the sweet, sweat soaked face of her darling to her for a long clinging kiss.

Nestling into the warm flushed neck, Steph felt an unbelievable lassitude. Remnants of her very powerful orgasm still reverberated, and her hips jerked spasmodically. She felt almost cold, as her blood pressure began to even and feeling her shiver, Gaby pulled the quilt over the two of them.

Dozing, warmly embraced, the two girls cuddled in blissful release.

---------------------------------------

It was some time later than Steph, dazed and half asleep, raised heavy eyes to look at the clock.

"Christ!"

She sat up abruptly, startling Gaby from her somulant state.

"What?"

"It's 2 o'clock in the morning! There is NO way Mario is going to think I'm at a bloody book club".

Panicked, Steph scrambled out of bed, searching for her clothes. Hopping, she put one shoe back on, then ran out to the living room to gather up the trail of clothes. Pulling, zipping and frantically trying to push her hair into a semblance of order, Steph felt her heart beating too fast.

Sitting up in bed, Gaby watched her broodingly. Pulling up her knees, she rested her sharp chin on them, her blue eyes narrowed and unhappy.

"Steph."

"Just a minute, hon, I gotta get myself together!"

Steph stopped her frantic ministrations, alerted by a tone she didn't recognize in her friend's voice. Re-entering the bedroom, she looked at Gaby.

"About what?"

"I AM jealous – I don't want you fucking Mario! I want you to stay here, with me ."

Gaby looked down. She was frightened and didn't want Steph to see her vulnerability. Independent from a young age, she was not used to being so wrapped up in another person it was always she who was in charge, she who called the shots. But then this sweet, funny, clever, creative little beauty had come along and somehow managed to sneak past her defences.

Gaby was intelligent – she knew that apart from the reality of Steph having sex with a woman, her culture had a strong and powerful pull on her. She knew that the time wasn't right to push Steph into making a decision – things were still too uncertain – the girl was only starting to figure out who she was.

Unfortunately, while her rational mind told her that, her heart had capitulated the very first time she had made love to this sweet, naïve girl.

Now wasn't the time. Briskly, forcing her emotions deep down inside, Gaby scrambled out of bed, adopting an insouciant air and laughing (albeit somewhat forced), went to Steph and dropped a kiss on her long straight nose.

"Silly girl, I just mean that I would love to make love again – but I know you need to get home, so let's get you organized and to your car!"

Steph was insightful. She knew full well that Gaby was putting a good face on things but she was far from ready to deal with the conflicts which her increasingly complicated life was creating.

Several minutes later, smelling rich and pungent, her makeup smudged, her hair in disarray, she was ensconced in her car and on her way home.

"What am I going to do?"

Tears welled out of Steph's eyes. She felt overwhelmed and confused – she loved Gaby – and what Gaby did to her was unlike anything she had ever felt in her life – but she loved her husband also and despite his unwillingness to encompass her entire sexuality – his distaste for her ejaculating ways was obvious – she know he loved her and was a good husband.